Riot Girls: Seven Books With Girls Who Don't Need A Hero

by Sara Roethle, Jill Nojack, Rachel Medhurst, Sarah Dalton, Pauline Creeden, Brad Magnarella, Stella Wilkinson

  Up in her flat, I noticed white powder along all the windowsills, and even a line across the doorway. “What’s that? Something magical?” I asked.

  “Just regular salt,” she said. “It keeps out the evil spirits, they can’t cross a line of salt. And there will be a fair few of them out tonight. You should do the same at your house.”

  “Yeah, I can just imagine Clare’s face if I put salt in all the windows!” I grimaced. “Speaking of spirits…” I filled her in on my encounter with Peter.

  “Oh, that poor boy!” she said. “Do you have any idea what his unfinished business might be?”

  I shook my head. “He doesn’t seem to remember much about his own life. Not even his last name. I can’t quite work out what his clothes are, some kind of suit I think, so it’s hard to date when he died; but I think it might be quite a long time ago. He speaks as if he is modern-day, but he does like to watch TV, so he might have caught up.” I shrugged. “If he died a long time ago then presumably anyone connected with his unfinished business would also be dead?”

  “That is a problem.” Iris tapped her foot whilst she considered it. “It’s quite a specialist subject. If only your mother were here; she was great with helping ghosts pass on.”

  “Really?” Another new bit of information about my mother, and perhaps another gift I might have inherited from her?

  “Hmmm, but it takes a while to master—we really need someone who already knows what they are doing. I know!” She turned to me, excited, as a thought struck her. “You must come to my Coven meeting tonight. It would be a great chance for you to meet other witches, and I know they would all be thrilled to meet you too. There’s a witch there, Theresa, who has some experience with spirits. Bring Peter with you.”

  “But he can’t leave the house,” I said, not at all enthusiastic about going to her Coven meeting.

  “Can’t you bind him to you instead of to the house? I’m sure the instructions will be in your mother’s Grimoire. As I said, she did quite a bit of work with spirits.”

  I shrugged, “Maybe. But I have a party to go to tonight. Would it take long?”

  She pulled a face at my selfishness. “I don’t know, I’ll ask Theresa for you. We meet at eight at The Seven Sisters; you should have plenty of time to get to your party as well.”

  The Seven Sisters were a famous group of beech trees on the town common near my house. It was right on the edge of town, so fairly private, but also fairly easy to get to. Planted hundreds of years ago, the trees were now incredibly tall, and stood in a large circle surrounded by open space. I could see how they would make a good place for a Coven to meet.

  Despite several interruptions from the shop downstairs, Iris managed to teach me quite a lot over the next couple of hours.

  I learned about casting a circle and about the four elements. It turns out my aunt is an Elemental Witch; her element is fire. I was excited about the idea of being able to control one of the elements, but after a lot of failure at trying to get a response from fire, earth, water and even the air, we had to conclude that I probably wasn’t one of the elemental witches.

  I couldn’t imagine being a Kitchen Witch like my mother; my dad and I lived mainly on baked potatoes before Clare and Duncan moved in and Clare took over our meals. I could chop up a salad, no problems, but cooking was not my strong point. Only last month I had tried to microwave some eggs, but they had all exploded quite spectacularly; apparently you can’t microwave eggs still in the shell.

  I also seriously doubted I was a Hedge Witch, like my Grannie. Years ago I had tried to grow cress and mustard for a school project. I was the only person in the class whose seeds did absolutely nothing at all.

  Iris patted me and said we would find my “metier”, whatever that was. “You’re probably an Eclectic Witch, Emily,” she said, which confused me even more, “It means you have a bit of this and a bit of that, but hopefully a bit of everything you need. It would make sense.”

  We went thorough some of the spells in my mother’s Grimoire. All the spells had to be said in rhyme, and some of them had to be said three times over, which seemed rather a faff.

  We took a break for afternoon tea, and I slumped down on the sofa. I was starting to get frustrated. Apart from being able to hear animals talk and seeing a ghost, I had not actually managed to perform any magic at all so far.

  I had waved my wand and said spells but nothing had happened. I had put ingredients in a cauldron and stirred it anticlockwise while chanting, but it could have been done by anyone; nothing magical occurred at all.

  I could see Iris as well was beginning to wonder if I really had any magic. I felt a total idiot waving a wand, and like a total cliché stirring a cauldron. It was hardly inspiring.

  “I think I’ll go home,” I told Iris. “I’m clearly not a risk as a witch. Less of the ‘powerful’ and more of the ‘pathetic’, I think.”

  Iris gave me a hug. “It will come, Emily. I don’t think we’ve found where your talents lie, but I’m convinced you will have some. You must do.” She said the last bit forcefully and I wondered if she were trying to convince herself as much as me.

  “Try to feel it a bit more,” was her last piece of advice as we went downstairs. “It’s not a mental thing, magic must come from the heart.”

  As a birthday present, Iris said I could have any supplies I felt I needed from her shop, so I went round with a basket picking out the things that took my fancy. I stocked up on tall thin candles of all colours as well as some thick white pillar candles. I got some incense called Halloween, which had a lovely cinnamon smell, and a wicked-looking “ceremonial” knife called an Athame. I also selected a red velvet cushion, as a little present for Bob to sit on.

  “Please think about coming to the Coven meeting,” Iris said as she showed me out.

  “Mmm, maybe,” I said, deliberately not committing myself. There was no way I was missing the party for that.

  When I got home the house was empty. I ran up to my room to get ready.

  “Peter, are you in here?” I called. I got no response so I started to undress.

  “Boo!” He popped out of my wardrobe.

  “Aghh! You creep!” I was already down to my bra and knickers. “OUT!” I pointed at the door. He smirked at me and went through the wall instead.

  Chapter Five

  I GRUMBLED TO myself as I pulled on my fancy-dress witch tights, but in truth I wasn’t massively bothered; I was getting used to the idea that he’d seen it all already.

  Ten minutes later I twirled in front of the mirror. I was wearing a sexy little black dress, the black and white striped tights, and some black pointed heels. I had a witch’s hat ready and a broomstick for good measure.

  The irony of my outfit struck me as hilarious. I’d bought it days ago, before I knew any of the inherited witch stuff. Now I almost wished I’d gone with the cat costume that had looked super sexy. Unfortunately I had decided that it was too sexy, it just wasn’t me – I’m much more a kooky witch than a sex kitten. We are what we are, I giggled to myself.

  “You can come back now.” I raised my voice.

  Peter floated back through the wall. He wolf-whistled at me, which I appreciated, so I struck a pose for him. “Very nice,” he said approvingly. “So did your aunt have any advice on helping me cross over?” he asked, and I felt really selfish for making him wait.

  “Sorry, Peter. She said it was pretty complicated. There’s something in my mother’s Grimoire but I haven’t looked at it yet. She did say there was a witch in her Coven that might be able to help, though.”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “That’s great. When can you see her?”

  I groaned inwardly. I really didn’t want to do this tonight of all nights, I wanted to go the party and see Sean.

  “She’ll be at The Seven Sisters for a Coven meeting tonight…” I said slowly, trying to think of a way out of it. “But let’s look at the Grimoire first, maybe there is something I can do.”
>
  We both sat on my bed as I flicked through the pages.

  “Here it is.” I found two spells, one for banishing a ghost and one to help a willing ghost cross over.

  “Oh damn. Ideally we need your bones.” I was grossed out at the idea of touching bones, even if Peter knew where to find them. I was certainly not going to dig up any dead bodies. “Oh, or a ghost willing to stand inside a cast circle; we have that! The tough bit, apparently, is that we have to connect, and it takes a powerful witch to do that.” I paused, not keen on telling him that so far I was pretty much a bust as a witch.

  I heaved a sigh. I would have to give it a go; it was that or tell him I would rather go to a party than help him cross over.

  I looked at the clock; it was only six-thirty but it was already pitch dark outside. The autumn nights were really drawing in.

  “We have some time. Let’s give it a try,” I said. “I’m only going to do a really simple circle, because I’ve never done anything like this on my own before, OK?” I got up and collected the white candles I had just been given by Iris.

  I set four candles down in a large circle and turned off all the lights. My curtains were open and the room was now lit just by the full moon outside. I seated myself in the middle of the candles with a box of matches, some incense and an incense holder.

  “You’d better come sit in here as well,” I said to Peter. “Apparently, once the circle is cast you shouldn’t be able to cross in or out. We mustn’t swear in the circle, and if I leave it, it will break, so have we got everything?”

  Peter nodded; he looked worried but he came and sat down beside me.

  I opened the Grimoire in my lap and began to put into practice what I had learned from my aunt that day.

  I tried to remember where the sun rose each day so I would know which way was East.

  I began to recite: “Watchtower of the East, Guard and Bless this Circle.” I lit the first candle. “Watchtower of the South, Guard and Bless this Circle.” I lit the next candle and then repeated the words for West and North. When all four candles were flaming away, I lit the incense. I let the smoke follow me as I slowly turned round in a full circle and said, “As above and so below.” Then I waved the incense a bit to make sure the circle was fully cleansed, before putting it in the incense holder.

  I stifled the urge to giggle; I must have looked ridiculous, especially as I was wearing my full-on witch costume. I bit my lip and managed to get a more serious look on my face.

  I seated myself opposite Peter in the middle and held out my hands palm-up.

  “Do you think you could rest your palms on mine?” I asked him. He lightly put his ghostly hands over mine and I resisted a shiver as I felt him there.

  “OK, this is the tough bit; we have to concentrate on each other, like a Vulcan mind-meld.” I closed my eyes and tried to sense him without them. I was concentrating so hard I didn’t hear anyone come into the house.

  “Emily? What time are you planning to leave tonight?” It was Duncan’s voice right outside my door. The doorknob turned and the door began to open.

  “Don’t come in!” I shrieked. I threw my hands out towards the door and there was a blast of yellow energy. The door, which was now half open, slammed shut again, knocking Duncan back through it and into the wall of the hallway. The candles flared up for a moment and then went out.

  “Oh no!” I scrambled to my feet and opened my bedroom door. Duncan was sprawled out in the hallway completely unconscious, and there was a massive crack in the wall where he must have hit his head.

  “What just happened?” I asked Peter desperately.

  He shrugged. “Some pretty strong magic? Is it supposed to come out of your hands like that?”

  I looked down at my hands, expecting some evidence of magic, but they looked normal. “I don’t know, but I don’t think so.”

  I slapped Duncan’s cheek lightly, trying to get him to wake up, but he didn’t react. I felt a bump on the back of his head and there was a matching red mark on his forehead where the door must have really whacked him.

  “Help me drag him into my room, quickly, before the parents get back,” I said over my shoulder.

  Peter gave me a look and I remembered he couldn’t touch anything. So I dragged Duncan by his ankles through my door; he weighed a ton.

  “I need help! I’ll be in so much trouble for this. They might not even let me go to the party.”

  I switched on the lights and scrabbled in my bag for my phone. I tried to ring Iris, but got no answer. I was starting to panic when inspiration hit me. I went over to the window, opened it and yelled, “Bob!”

  He was there in seconds, a black shape appearing against the moon. I stood back and he flew in.

  “Yes, Mistress?” He looked sleepy, and I wondered if birds went to bed as soon as it got dark.

  “I need you to find my aunt and tell her I’ve knocked Duncan out. By accident,” I added as Bob tipped his head at me questioningly. “I was casting a circle and he came into the room; I sort of blasted him.”

  “Blasted him, Mistress?”

  “Yes,” I held my hands up to Bob, “Like this, and some kind of burning light came out of my palms and hit the door and it knocked him out.”

  “You didn’t say any kind of spell?” Bob looked intrigued.

  “No, is that normal?” I already knew by the look on his face that it wasn’t.

  “Were you pointing your wand at him?” Bob seemed to be trying to comprehend what happened as much as I was.

  “No. I already told you, it came out of my palms. Look, never mind that. Can you find Iris or not?”

  “Yes, of course, Mistress, I’ll be as quick as I can.” He gave me one more speculative look and then flew out the window.

  I went into the bathroom and ran a flannel under the tap, and then returned to my room and applied it to Duncan’s forehead.

  “Do you think I should ring an ambulance?” I asked Peter.

  “How will you explain it?” he asked sensibly. “He’s only knocked out. I’m sure I saw a spell in your book, when we were looking through it earlier, to ‘Revive’ a person.

  “Oh, great idea. Though I doubt I could make it work, let’s have a look.”

  I retrieved my Grimoire from the circle.

  “Yes! Here it is. Oh pants, it’s pretty complicated. I need a load of stuff.” I went round the room collecting what I had.

  I had to run downstairs to get an apple, a glass of water and a bowl of some earth from the garden, but then I was ready.

  I sat back down inside the candles and grimaced at Peter. “Wish me luck.”

  I cut the apple in half with my Athame on a mirror to double the strength of the spell, and reading from the Grimoire I said “I offer this apple to the Goddess and ask for the power of the full moon to fill me.”

  I removed one seed from the apple and, cradling it in my palm, I said “Seed of life, I give you air,” then I blew on it. “Seed of life, I give you earth.” I planted it in the bowl of earth. “Seed of life, I give you water.” I watered the earth. “Seed of life, I give you fire from the father sun and light this candle to guide you.” I lit a red candle and stood it in the earth. Then I picked up my wand, pointed it at Duncan and intoned:

  “By earth, air, fire and water, let the power of the elements reside.

  In perfect love and perfect trust, this man I want you to revive.

  This is my will, hear my plea, as it harm none, so mote it be.”

  Once again nothing happened at all. I gave a wail and dropped my wand. Storming over to Duncan, I shook him hard. “Revive, Revive, Revive!” I sobbed in frustration.

  This time the light burst out of me in like a ring around a planet, and then it slowly grew and grew, until – whoosh – it exploded outwards. Out of the window I could see the light fill the garden and beyond, and then everything went dark again.

  My bedroom light flickered and then came on again.

  Duncan sat up; the mark was
gone from his forehead and he looked fine. I slumped in relief.

  “Who the hell is that?” Duncan asked, looking over my shoulder.

  I turned my head and gasped. Peter wasn’t a ghost anymore. I’d “revived” him too. He was now a handsome sixteen-year-old boy, standing in my room, and that suit I had been unable to place? It was a pair of striped pyjamas.

  Chapter Six

  I DON'T KNOW which of us looked more shocked. All three of us were pretty stunned. Peter was pinching himself as if to check he wasn’t dreaming, and I was gawping at him with my mouth open. Only Duncan looked confused rather than surprised.

  “Um, this is Peter,” I told Duncan, whilst trying to come up with a good excuse as to why there was a boy in my bedroom wearing only his pyjamas. Actually – forget a good excuse, any excuse at all would have done. I came up with … nothing!

  Peter recovered quicker than I did. “Hi … Duncan, isn’t it?” He gave Duncan a smile. “I know this looks really odd, but I had a massive row with my father last night; he got kind of aggressive and then he kicked me out of the house. Emily was nice enough to offer me her floor for the night. We’re old friends and I just didn’t know where else to go. I’ve been lying low because I don’t want my dad to know where I am until he calms down, you know?”

  Duncan nodded sympathetically. “Oh, right. Bummer.”

  I was taken aback by how easily he accepted the decidedly ropey story. But it did explain everything, even Peter’s clothes. I supposed that Peter must have had a lot of time on his hands to think up his tall tales.

  Peter kept his focus on Duncan. “Um, now that you know I’m here, I don’t suppose I could borrow some clothes off you, could I? We’re about the same size.”

  I never thought Duncan would do something as selfless as lend his clothes – I mean, he went mental once when I borrowed his coat just to bolt to the car and back in the rain to fetch my school bag. But he just nodded again and got up, slightly unsteadily, and left the room.

  “I think he’s got concussion,” I muttered, looking at the door Duncan had just exited through. “He must have, to accept that story!”